Cottonport, Louisiana
by Withoutatracelover996
Summary: A case in Louisiana could be dangerous for some of our favourite BAU members...  NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all. So this is my second Criminal Minds fic and I'm excited to write it :) It's going to be placed in season 5 because that's when our team was happily together. AND THEY WILL BE TOGETHER AGAIN SEASON 7! YAY! Enjoy!**

Reid ran his shaky hands through his hair once again. His stress level was dangerously high and the two hours of sleep he had gained the previous night were not helping his concentration. Becky Winters, Sierra Shultz and Laura Ashfield had all been found dead. The girls had been tied together and wrapped in a carpet outside of a local pub.

Cottonport, Louisiana was suffering under the fearful reign of this unknown subject and for the first time in years, the town of two-thousand had started to lock its doors at night. The local police department had done its best to contain the situation when the first three girls were found. After the next three, they began to doubt themselves. Once three more victims had been found, Cottonport PD decided to call in the BAU.

Reid skimmed through the pages of the report he had been handed. After working for two days on the case with no leads, Reid himself was at a standstill in his normally steady flow of theories.

"How are things going, boy genius?" Morgan asked, walking into the small workspace.

"I don't know," Reid sighed, poring over the strew of papers covering the table in front of him.

Morgan took the seat next to Reid and set down a cup of coffee.

"Thanks," Reid mumbled, not looking up.

"Why don't you take a break?" Morgan asked.

"The UNSUB isn't taking breaks, neither am I," Reid said firmly.

"Alright, kid. Listen, Hotch told me to let you know that he wants you to go with him on an interview tomorrow. Paul Wood," Morgan said.

"Ok," Reid said, keeping his eyes on the gruesome photos of the most recent victims.

"Reid," Morgan said sharply.

Reid reluctantly tore his eyes away from the photos, "What?"

"Take a break," Morgan said gently.

Reid glanced back at the photos and sighed. "Ok."

**So kind of a boring, short intro but I wanted to know what you guys think before heading into a longer chapter. I honestly don't know where I'm going with this so it should be interesting to see how this pans out. PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks guys :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**2 Days Earlier**

"This UNSUB is a classic narcissist. By leaving the bodies in such an open area, he is telling the population that they are not safe. He's also communicating to us that he is better than us, faster than us, and smarter than us. What this UNSUB wants is attention - he thrives on it. None of the women were sexually assaulted which means that he is not acting based on any sexual needs. The best thing for us to do right now is to keep the media quiet and to make sure that the UNSUB isn't getting any attention whatsoever," Hotch delivered the profile.

"If we can't use the media, how are we supposed to keep the people in our town safe from this son of a bitch?" one police officer asked.

"Because the other murders have been covered by the local news, women have been warned against going out with other female friends late at night," Morgan answered.

"This is bullshit! My daughter was killed by this bastard and all you want us to do is shut down the media?" a dark haired police officer shouted furiously.

"I'm sorry for your loss, officer. But we can assure you that this is the best possible course of action at the moment. Of course, interviews will still be conducted and the investigation will remain ongoing but the media will no longer be allowed to broadcast any information about the case," Rossi explained.

The officer stood up abruptly and stormed out of the room. Hotch nodded to Morgan who quickly followed the shaken officer out of the briefing room.

Another officer tentatively raised his hand, "Why do you think this guy is killing in threes?"

"We're not sure yet. It could be that these women remind him of women from his past, or he may have chosen them for other reasons," Prentiss theorized.

"Is there anything else?" Hotch asked.

When no hands were raised, Hotch concluded the meeting, "Thank you and that will be all for now."

* * *

><p>"Hey, hold up," Morgan jogged towards the agitated officer from earlier.<p>

The man turned around, quickly wiping his eyes and blinking several times. "Yeah, what can I do for you?" he asked gruffly, attempting to regain his composure.

"Are you alright?" Morgan asked.

"I'm fine," the officer said shortly.

"What was your daughter's name?" Morgan asked sympathetically.

"Hailey," the man sighed. "She was in law school. Top of her class. She loved dogs. Her dog, Anna, lives with me now," The officer chucked softly, "dumb thing won't stop whining..." The officer began to sob, tears escaping from his red rimmed eyes and cascading down his cheeks.

Morgan leaned over and placed a hand on the crying man's shoulders. "We are going to do everything in our power to catch the man who did this to Hailey. Do you hear me? We will catch him."

The officer looked up at Morgan and nodded.

**So this one's a little longer. How do you think I'm doing with character? That's always a big thing for me, I try to keep everyone in character. Please let me know and review! Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Present Day**

JJ popped her head into the room where Morgan and Reid were talking, "He's struck again, three more girls were just found outside of a convenience store."

"He's escalating," Reid said to himself as he rose out of his chair.

Morgan and Reid followed JJ into another office where Hotch, Prentiss and Rossi were already seated.

JJ started handing out photographs of the crime scene, "Riley Hargreaves, Christa Ammins and Loerna Nain were found stabbed and strangled, just like the other girls."

"Wrapped in carpet again," Rossi remarked.

"These particular carpets are made in India. They're usually hand woven and can cost anywhere between five hundred to three thousand dollars. Only specialty stores would carry them. Unless he's making them himself," Reid said.

"Ok, good. Garcia, did you get that?" Hotch asked.

"I'm always listening... Ok. There are no specialty carpet shops in the area but there is one in Baton Rouge which is about 2 hours from Cottonport. The cheapest carpet they sell there is seven hundred and fifty dollars," Garcia stated.

"So he's got cash," Morgan assumed.

"And a means of transportation that could carry such a big rug," Rossi said.

"Do you think there's a reason he's using Persian rugs? Something from his childhood maybe?" Prentiss asked.

"Maybe. It's too early to tell," Hotch said.

"What about security tape? He dumps the bodies in front of public areas, are there any cameras we can pull footage from?" JJ asked.

"I looked but both the pub and the convenience store only had interior cameras and the first three bodies were in an alley beside a dog grooming store, so no luck there," Garcia said apologetically.

"What about the grocery store dumping?" Reid asked.

"Oh! I completely forgot about that one... let me just see here... ah! Yes, we have footage. Take a look," Garcia said triumphantly, inserting the footage onto the laptop in Cottonport.

The grainy black and white tape showed an unmasked man jumping out of a pickup truck, flipping the back down and rolling the bodies out of the bed of the truck. Then, as quickly as he had appeared, the man drove away.

"So he's strong enough to push three fully grown women out of a truck," Rossi mused.

"He also had to get them in there," Reid pointed out.

"He wasn't wearing a mask, that means he either didn't think a security camera was there, or he was being unorganized. Garcia, when was that camera installed?" Hotch asked.

"That morning," Garcia replied.

"So he checks out the dumpsite first, then returns later on to get rid of the bodies?" Prentiss asked.

"But he wasn't expecting this one to have a newly installed camera," Morgan said.

"Garcia, can you try to extract a plate number from that footage?" Hotch asked.

"I can try... the picture looks pretty distorted to me. I'll get back to you," Garcia chirped.

"Prentiss and Morgan, I want you to go to the convenience store now and take a look around. See what you can find. JJ, I want you to go and tell the press that no new bodies have been found and that the investigation is winding down. Rossi, I want you to go talk to Christa Ammins' family. I want to know if she had any connection to the previous victims," Hotch ordered. "Reid, you and I are going to talk to Paul Wood. He placed the 911 call right after the first murder."

"Ok," Reid agreed, grabbing his coat.

"Not now, in the morning. Get some sleep," Hotch urged.

"I will," Reid promised.

**PLEASE REVIEW! It helps me write :) And it's depressing to post a new chapter and get no emails after. I'm always checking but nothing shows up :( Anyways... hope you liked this chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well that was very exciting! I posted the last chapter before I went to bed and I woke up with 9(!) new emails so that was invigorating. Without further ado, here is chapter 4!**

Reid tossed and turned in his uncomfortable hotel bed. Sighing, he got out and rearranged the sheets so they were no longer twisted around his body. Reid sat down on the foot of the bed and groaned. He flipped on the TV, noting the time, 3:12am. The news was already on the screen and Reid watched for a moment, listening to the reporter talk about the upcoming spring parade, the opening of a new coffee shop and the release of a new video game. Satisfied that the newscaster wasn't talking about the most recent murders, Reid flipped the television off and crawled into bed. A short, fitful sleep followed.

* * *

><p>He smashed his finger down on the off button, hurling the remote off to the side where is crashed against the wall. "Video games, spring parades, I just killed three people and no one cares?" he roared.<p>

Thrusting himself off of the couch, he launched into a violent tirade, knocking over furniture and smashing plates. Finally, with his house in shambles, he collapsed onto a chair. Breathing heavily, an idea came to him. Slowly, a grin spread onto his face and he laughed maniacally. His plan came together quickly; attention from the press would be inevitable with a crime this big. It wasn't exactly his style... but it would be worth it.

* * *

><p>"Good morning everyone, I trust you all had a good night's sleep," Hotch greeted the team.<p>

The team mumbled their responses in unison, complaining about their lack of sleep in the uncomfortable hotel beds the CPD had provided them with.

"Alright, alright. We have more important things to worry about. Does everyone remember your tasks for today?" Hotch asked.

A courus of "yes sir"s followed.

"Alright. Reid, let's get going," Hotch gestured for Reid to follow him outside.

* * *

><p>Hotch's ringtone echoed throughout the interior of the car he was driving. "Hello?" Hotch answered.<p>

"Hey, Hotch. Garcia got a partial plate number from that camera footage, first three digits A8T," Prentiss reported.

"Ok great, does that match any potential suspects?" Hotch asked.

"No, that was the weird part, it doesn't match anyone in town," Prentiss said.

"Do you think he lives somewhere outside of Cottonport?" Hotch asked.

"I don't know... it seems unlikely," Prentiss said unsurely.

"Well, we'll take it into consideration," Hotch dismissed.

"Ok, see you in an hour," Prentiss said.

"Bye," Hotch hung up.

"Prentiss?" Reid guessed.

"Yeah, Garcia got a partial plate number on the pick-up. It doesn't match anyone living in town," Hotch communicated.

"Maybe he stole it," Reid mused.

"If it had popped up on any stolen vehicle directories I think Garcia would have let us know," Hotch said.

"I think this is the house here," Reid pointed to an upcoming house.

The FBI agent's car pulled up onto the driveway, its tires crunching on the gravel. Hotch and Reid climbed out, slamming the doors behind them. A dog in the house to began to bark. Hotch noticed the unkempt lawn which was covered in trash, everything from rotting boxes to rusty bicycles. Reid used his foot to shuffle a pile of soggy newspapers sitting in front of the door out of the way. He rapped his knuckles on the door firmly, causing some dried paint flakes to fall away. The knocking sound caused the barking of the dog to intensify and footsteps were heard moving inside of the small cottage.

The door swung open to reveal a rugged man wearing a white T-shirt coated with ugly, yellow sweat stains. His chin was covered in stubble and his teeth were crooked. "What can I do for you?" he asked in a surprisingly sophisticated accent.

"Paul Wood?" Hotch asked. When Paul nodded, Hotch pulled out his credentials, "FBI."

Reid noted a look of shock flashing across Paul's face. The expression changed briefly to happiness then settled back to indifference.

"What can I do for you fine gentlemen?" Paul asked.

"We understand that you found the three young women who were murdered a couple of weeks ago?" Hotch asked.

"Yes, that was me, it was a... terrible experience for me. I've never seen anything like it," Paul said sorrowfully. "Would you like to come in? It looks like it might start to rain."

Reid glanced at Hotch who agreed, "Sure, thank you, Mr. Wood."

* * *

><p>Mrs. Ammins held her frail hands in her lap, dark circles under her eyes accentuating her exhaustion. "Christa was a nice girl. Everyone loved her," Mrs. Ammins said as she shook her head, "I don't know why anyone would ever want to hurt my daughter."<p>

"I know this is difficult, Mrs. Ammins, but I need to know if Christa knew any of the following women: Riley Hargreaves, Loerna Nain, Becky Winters, Sierra Shultz or Laura Ashfield," Rossi read off the names of the latest victims.

"I wouldn't know. I've certainly never heard of those girls but Christa wasn't living with me anymore. She had her own apartment, her own life. I got the weekly phone call but she rarely ever spoke about her friends or her social life. I only know of one girl who is friends with Christa and that's Tori Loppek. They've been friends since kindergarten," Mrs. Ammins informed Rossi.

"Ok, thank you, we'll talk to her. Now, did you notice anything strange about Christa during the last few days before she went missing?" Rossi asked.

"Like I said, we only talked on the phone. She seemed fine to me. She was complaining about her boss, as usual..."

"What was his name?" Rossi interrupted.

"Hal Garret," Mrs. Ammins said, watching as Rossi scribbled the name into a notebook. "She also told me that she was thinking about buying a cat. She said it would keep her company on the weekends," Mrs. Ammins said, her eyes watering.

Rossi reached out and grasped Mrs. Ammins hand, "You're doing great," he reassured her. "So she was lonely on the weekends, that means she wasn't a socialite?"

"No. She would occasionally go out with friends but only once in a while, not every weekend," Mrs. Ammins said.

"Ok, I think that's enough information for now. If you think of anything, please give me a call anytime," Rossi said, handing Mrs. Ammins his card.

"I will," she promised.

* * *

><p>"Hey, have you seen Hotch or Reid?" Prentiss asked.<p>

"They're not back from their interview with Wood yet?" Morgan asked.

"No, it's been over an hour and neither of them will answer their phones..." Prentiss said.

"Maybe they're running late. Give them another forty minutes," Morgan said nonchalantly.

"Alright..." Prentiss said unsurely, glancing at the clock that read 3:12pm.

**Here is a nice long chapter for all of you nice fanfiction folks. It's so easy to write a long one when I have all of these reviews boosting my writing juices! Please write a review, it only takes a second and it means a lot :) Thanks for reading everyone!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for all of your reviews! And I've noticed that whenever I update, my word count is always exactly something. Last time it was... 1,700? And chapter 4 was 1,300 words exactly. Weird. Anyways, here is chapter 5!**

Reid wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming smell of filth inside of Paul Wood's house. Hotch, as usual, remained stotic and seemed to not even notice the putrid smell. "Mr. Wood, I understand you told the 911 operator that you had seen a carpet lying on the ground, causing you to walk over to it. Once you uncovered it, you saw the women inside and then called the police, is that correct?" Hotch asked.

"Yes, sir. It is," Paul answered, slamming the door of a mini-fridge closed after removing a beer from inside.

"Is there anything particular that you remembered about that night?" Hotch asked.

Paul pulled the cap off of the beer, causing it to fizz, "Yeah, I was going to the liqour store and I have to pass the alley right next to that dog salon place. As I was walking by, I noticed a horrbile smell,"

Reid raised his eyebrows slightly, earning him a look of disapproval from Hotch.

"I went over to see what it was and that's when I noticed the carpet. I tried to unroll it but it was really heavy. That's when I looked inside and saw..." Paul said, unable to finish his sentence. "Once I got off of the phone with the police, my cell phone started ringing. It was a unknown caller but I answered it anyways. The guy said he would pay me two hundred dollars to call the news and tell them that there were three bodies down here. I did it and a cheque arrived the next day. Easiest money I ever made," Paul described.

Hotch frowned, "What exactly did the man on the phone say? Do you remember?"

"He said, 'Call the news and I'll give you two hundred dollars'. I think," Paul said.

"That's it? He didn't tell you his name?" Reid asked.

"No, he did not. Extremely vague, that guy was," Paul remarked.

"Ok, thank you for your help, Mr. Wood," Hotch said, standing up.

Paul held out his hand, "Anytime, agents."

* * *

><p>Hotch checked his phone, "Six missed calls..." He held the phone up to his ear, "Prentiss, hi. Yeah, we just finished interviewing Paul Wood, he said someone paid him to phone the press and let them know about the bodies. We're pretty far into the woods here and neither Reid or I had any reception."<p>

The car hit a bump in the road, causing Hotch's phone to slip from his hands, "Damn it," he muttered.

As he reached down to pick it up, Reid stopped him, "Don't do that! Sixty-nine percent of accidents occur from picking up a dropped item in the car. I'll get it for you."

Reid handed Hotch the phone. "Thanks," Hotch said. "Prentiss? Are you still there? I dropped the phone. Ok, well have Garcia pull up Paul's phone records and see who called him the night of the first murders. Thanks, Prentiss."

"How did our UNSUB get Paul's phone number?" Reid asked suddenly.

Hotch frowned, "I don't know."

"He must have had some sort of connection with Paul. Our UNSUB knew him! We have to go back," Reid said urgently.

Hotch pulled the car over, "let me just tell the team what we're doing." Hotch held the phone up to his ear only to be greeted by an ominous beeping sound, "No service."

"They've probably come to the same conclusion as we have. I'm sure they know what we're doing," Reid said.

"Alright," Hotch said, turning the car around and heading back towards Paul's house.

* * *

><p>He laughed to himself. Those idiots hadn't suspected a thing. He knew they'd be back. They had forgotten to ask him a very important question. A question that would cause them to lose their lives.<p>

* * *

><p>"I'm not getting any phone records from the night of the first murder other than the calls that Paul made to the police and to the press," Garcia said, frantically typing. "No one called Paul that night. It would have shown up."<p>

"Are you sure, Garcia?" Rossi asked.

"Of course I'm sure! There is nothing here, no one called Paul that night. No one," Garcia insisted.

"But why would he lie about something like that? It serves him no benefit!" Rossi exclaimed.

"I don't know, Rossi. But this guy gives me the heebie jeebies and I don't like it!"

* * *

><p>"Has anyone heard from Hotch or Reid?" Morgan asked.<p>

"No, they're still not back yet?" Prentiss asked.

"Nope. They should have been back by now," Morgan said, glancing at the clock.

"It's an hour drive, at least. I'm sure they're on their way," JJ said, unconcerned.

* * *

><p>Paul watched gleefully as the agents pulled back into his driveway. "The fun begins..."<p>

**This one is a tiny bit shorter but I couldn't resist the cliffhanger ;) Sorry this one took a little longer, I had a math exam to take and I am SO GLAD it's over! Please hit that review button, it means a lot :) :) Hey look! 950 words exactly!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yes, I know. I'm a terrible person. However, I was away a lot this summer and I've been getting back into the swing of things at school so I've been a bit pressed for time. Anyways... here's chapter 6, sorry for the wait!**

Paul snatched up his trusty old crowbar, tucking it into the umbrella stand sitting beside his front door. It was stupid of him to assume that they would come back but he wasn't ready to attack during the time they were there. Paul quickly devised a plan in order to ensure that neither of the agents would pull a gun on him.

An urgent knock on the door sounded, followed by Hotch's authoritative voice, "Paul Wood, FBI, open the door!"

Paul casually swung the door open, an innocent look pasted on his face, "Did you forget something?"

"You told us that a man called you and told you to phone the news, is that correct?" Hotch asked.

"Yes, what does that have to do with you being back?" Paul asked.

"How did this man have your phone number?" Reid inquired.

Paul's face turned white, he put his head in his hands and groaned. "I thought it didn't mean anything..."

"What didn't mean anything?" Hotch asked.

"The voice on the other end of the line, it sounded just like my brother but I was so shocked from seeing the bodies and getting this phone call, I didn't pay it much attention," Paul said weakly.

"It's ok, no one's blaming you. We need to know what your brother's name is," Reid asked.

"Yeah, it's Darren... I'm not feeling so good," Paul said, beginning to sway slightly on his feet.

Reid moved inside of the house and grabbed ahold of Paul's arm, "Just close your eyes for a minute and the dizziness should go away."

Paul suddenly lurched forward, grabbing the crowbar from the corner. He smashed it into Reid's stomach, causing him to keel over.

Turning, Paul brought the crowbar down on Hotch's hands, making him drop the gun he had unholstered. In two final blows, Paul rendered Hotch and Reid unconscious and lying helpless at his feet.

Dropping the slightly bloodied crowbar, Paul smiled, cocking his head to one side and cooing. "You poor boys, the last thing you'll ever see is my ugly mug."

**Short. I know. Next chapter will be longer, I just have some homework I need to be doing right now. Please review! Thanks :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks everyone for reading!**

Reid opened his eyes, groaning as his head pounded angrily. Blinking away the fog clouding his vision, Reid took a look around. He found himself sitting alone in a bathroom, bound to the dingy sink on his left. Unsure of what to do, Reid rested his head against the tile wall and wondered where Hotch was.

* * *

><p>Hotch fiddled with his restraints, rubbing his wrists raw in the process. "Damn it," he muttered to himself. Glancing around the bedroom, he acknowledged the attic he was confined to. It was a bright orange colour, with slivers of light squeezing in through the slats in the closed wooden shutters. The attic was unremarkable, the lack of personal touches highlighting the absence of a person living there.<p>

Hotch licked his lips and briefly closed his eyes, he could feel blood dripping from the wound in his head. He pushed aside the headache he could feel banging on the walls of his skull and forced himself to concentrate once more.

Paul was starved for media attention. Hotch knew that this was Paul's last ditch attempt to gain the media's spotlight again. Fortunately, Hotch knew that if Paul wanted to kill them, he would have done it already.

Reid.

Hotch craned his neck to see around the corner of the attic and caught sight of something. He strained his eyes, attempting to see the object better.

"Reid?" Hotch asked.

Receiving no answer, Hotch tried again, more urgently, "Reid!"

Hearing nothing, Hotch sighed. He wasn't positive, but his gut told him that he was looking at a human hand.

* * *

><p>Paul looked at the TV, tapping his foot on the ground.<p>

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"And that's it for our weather, we go back to you, Mike, for some breaking news."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Thank you Mike. Yes, a few hours ago, we received information from an anonymous source regarding the disappearance of two..."

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Hang on Mike, we're going to go to commercial break and come back shortly with more information."

* * *

><p>"JJ, get on the news now!" Rossi said urgently.<p>

"This is a matter of life or death, I need to be on air right now!" JJ shouted into the phone.

"Tell them we have a camera set up here already, all Garcia needs is a link to their station," Morgan told JJ.

JJ relayed the information, feeling the adrenaline course through her veins. "Ok, thank you so much."

* * *

><p>Paul's heart rate increased, thumping against his ribcage rapidly. His rage was bubbling up and he knew that he was on the verge of snapping.<p>

"Back to the news at seven..." The announcer said.

"Welcome back everyone, we have Jennifer Jareau with the FBI here; Jennifer?" The newscaster said.

"Hello, I'm here to speak with Paul. Paul, if you're listening, I need you to pay attention to me. Please call the number at the bottom of the screen, when you do, we will air your story and everything you've done. You will be known and tomorrow, you will be on the front page of every newspaper in America. All you have to do is call this number."

Paul's hands shook viciously as he grabbed the telephone and punched in the numbers.

"Paul?" Rossi asked.

"I'm going to kill your agents, and I am going to be very famous, very quickly. I don't need your empty promises to achieve fame all on my own," Paul seethed before hanging up the phone viciously.

* * *

><p>Rossi loosed his tie anxiously, "Garcia, did you get it?"<p>

Garcia looked at him, her mouth open helplessly, "No."

**Please review! It helps the writing juices flow :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for reading and thanks for your reviews. Loved hearing that CircleDaybreaker could see this happening on the show :)**

Hotch had shifted the ropes cutting into his wrists far enough to the left that he could grab a hold of them with his teeth. Biting down hard, he tugged and pulled at them, the fibers of frayed rope stinging his already red and raw wrists.

Snap.

Hotch blinked in surprise, the ropes sliding off of his hands into a small heap on the floor.

Hotch climbed to his knees and briefly saw back spots as his body tried to compensate for his momentary low blood pressure. After his vision reappeared, Hotch stumbled over to where the hand was lying.

"Reid?" Hotch asked again as he approached the corner. After peering around the wall, Hotch stonily assessed the situation in front of him.

* * *

><p>Paul slammed the phone down, infuriated that the FBI were meddling with his well constructed plan. He stalked out of the living room, ready to take out his anger on someone who deserved it.<p>

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry," JJ stuttered.<p>

"It's not your fault," Prentiss comforted her, "You did everything right."

"Are you going to let the news air his story?" Garcia asked.

"No," Rossi said, "We have to draw him out. He won't kill Reid and Hotch without being absolutely sure that the media is watching. He has our number and until he calls back, we have to keep looking for where he might have taken Hotch and Reid."

* * *

><p>The first punch took Reid by surprise. The second left him with a bloody nose. After the first two hits, Paul took a step back, a fire roaring in his eyes.<p>

"Everyone will know my name!" he screamed.

A kick to the ribs.

"EVERYONE!"

Another punch to the head.

"WILL!"

Stars appeared in Reid's vision.

"KNOW!"

A kick to the face.

"ME!"

Everything went black.

**So this was a tidbit of story that I wrote in class when I had nothing to do today. I'll have a longer chapter sometime this weekend. Please review, I love hearing what you all have to say. **

**OH! I almost forgot...**

**I know there's been a lot of stories on FF about the team discovering it. What do you think of a story with two of our team members in danger, Garcia realizing that it's a story on FF and that everything being written is happening to the team. Then, the author leaves the agent's lives in reviewers hands and the team has to wait and see what will happen based on the reviews the story gets.**

**What do you think? Also, please don't TAKE this idea because I would be really interested in writing it if you think it's a good story. I'm willing to take any suggestions based on who you would like in danger, how they're in trouble etc. etc.**

**Let me know :) **

**BUT DON'T TAKE MY IDEA PLEASE :) :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you for reading! And I've decided to write the story I talked about last chapter as soon as I'm done this fic.**

Hotch frowned as he looked at the dying person in front of him. The erratic pulse of the old man proved that he was barely hanging on to life. He was lying on a bed, hooked up to six separate machines that hummed quietly in the small attic.

Hotch moved the man's hand back onto the bed and picked up the large file of papers that was sitting next to him.

_Patient Name: Oakland Wood_

_Age: 79_

_Condition: Brain Cancer_

_Suggested Treatment: Bi-weekly chemotherapy for twenty months. Oakland needs constant supervision and a 24-hour nurse. _

Hotch furrowed his brow, he hadn't seen any nurses the entire time he had been there. He shuffled through the files once more until he reached a page that was printed one week ago.

_Oakland has requested termination of his chemotherapy. He will reside at home with his son, Paul Wood. Paul has previous medical training and will act in place of Oakland's previous bedside nurse. Without chemotherapy, Oakland has an estimated 2 weeks to live._

"The trigger," Hotch said aloud.

Looking beside Oakland, Hotch found a table with a pad of paper sitting on it. Hotch picked it up, reading the words scratched onto it.

_Paul, I am so disappointed in you. I remember when you got out of high school, you begged me for money for your tuition. You had always wanted to be an actor. I gave you my entire life savings so you could go to that pricey film school. Once you graduated, you went to one audition. One. When the casting director told you that you didn't get the part, you gave up on your dream. Why did you give up? Before I die, I want you to be that actor you always wanted to be. I know your name, son. But no one else does. Go, make it happen. Don't ever give up. _

Hotch put the pad down slowly, knowing what he had to do.

* * *

><p>Paul knelt on the floor in the fetal position. He sobbed pitifully, rocking back and forth on the hardwood. "Why is life so hard?" he cried. "What did I do wrong?"<p>

He got up, tears staining his cheeks. He grabbed a camera and headed up towards his father's room in the attic.

* * *

><p>"I have major news on Paul," Garcia said urgently. "About a year ago, his father got brain cancer and up until now, Oakland Wood has been receiving regular chemotherapy until he decided to stop the treatment. Oakland only has two weeks to live. Paul has been taking care of him."<p>

"That's his trigger!" Prentiss exclaimed.

"Baby girl, where was his father staying?" Morgan asked.

"441 Porter St, about seventeen miles from Paul's house," Garcia said.

"Let's go," Rossi said, grabbing his jacket and leaving the bullpen.

* * *

><p>Reid woke up with a blinding headache. His analytical brain was functioning a little slowly after the abuse he had just endured. However, his mind never failed him and he was pulling up facts on knots mere moments later.<p>

Gritting his teeth, Reid pulled on his binds, twisting his hands every which way until the ropes fell off of him.

"Someone didn't go to boy scouts," he muttered.

Reid stood, up and took a moment to regain his senses. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and raised an eyebrow. "Ouch," he said, touching a cut on his face.

Reid turned away from the mirror and towards the door. Grabbing the handle, he turned it, and prayed that it would open.

* * *

><p>Paul directed the camera towards himself, "My name is Paul Wood, and I have murdered nine people. Soon, I will kill two more. This is a video to prove that I have captured two FBI agents I will kill them very shortly after this video is completed." Paul approached the attic, "This is the first agent, Aaron Hotchner," Paul opened the door to the attic and the camera clattered to the ground.<p>

**Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion! The last chapter has not yet been written so the more reviews there are, the faster I will be motivated to write it! (I've always wanted 50 reviews, hint hint :) Thank you to the people who have been faithfully reviewing throughout, I love hearing what you have to say :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**(Sorry, had to make a couple of changes so I re-updated)**

**I've worked really hard on this chapter, and I'm trying to give everyone what they want :)  
>As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the finale to, Cottonport, Louisiana!<strong>

Reid peered around the corner from inside of the bathroom, confirming that the coast was clear. He shuffled forward, searching for a weapon but still wary of his concussed state.

The house was covered in aging flowered wallpaper, the edges yellow and curled. The hallway smelled of mothballs and old age; Reid guessed that this was not Paul's house. Reid caught sight of a hammer lying haphazardly against the wall a bit further down the hallway. Reid grabbed it, his heart racing as he felt the cold steel burning his hands.

Reid continued into the living room, hoping that no one was occupying it. Reid breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't see anyone sitting in the rotting armchairs clustered around the unused fireplace.

Reid whipped his head around when he heard a crash coming from upstairs. Without making a sound, Reid made his way to the attic.

* * *

><p>Hotch smashed the camera out of Paul's hands, and brought his fists back up to make a connection with Paul's face. Paul stumbled backwards, taken aback by this surprise attack. Paul roared forwards, slamming his fist into Hotch's stomach while simultaneously kicking his legs out from under him.<p>

Hotch crashed to the floor, his wrist cracking underneath his weight. He gasped in pain, then wished he hadn't when Paul's foot crushed his lungs, forcing the air out of them.

"Paul?" Oakland wheezed from the corner of the attic.

Paul turned his head to where his father was lying. Hotch used this temporary distraction to rise up and throw his body into Paul's. Well aware that he couldn't last much longer, Hotch punched Paul in the face, trying his hardest to render the man unconscious.

Paul, however, refused to give up and shoved Hotch off of him. Rearing up over Hotch, Paul smiled, "Remember this name, Paul Wood."

An instant before Paul brought his bloodied fist down on Hotch's face, Reid crashed the hammer into Paul's skull. Paul instantly fell off of Hotch, lying on the floor with blood running out of his ears.

"Hotch?" Reid asked. "Are you ok?"

Hotch forced his eyes open, taking in a shaky breath to answer Reid's question, "I'm ok."

* * *

><p>The black SUV raced through the streets of Cottonport, its sirens overwhelming the quiet atmosphere of the small town. Morgan gripped the steering wheel, his fingers digging into the hard plastic.<p>

"They're going to be ok," Prentiss tried to calm Morgan down.

"That sick bastard said he was going to kill them. That was three hours ago!" Morgan shouted, increasing the speed of the car.

"Please be careful," Prentiss said, grabbing the handle beside her as Morgan whipped around a sharp turn.

Morgan ignored her and continued speeding along in a stony silence.

* * *

><p>Reid hunted for a phone, looking over every inch of the house. "Hotch, I don't think there's a phone in here."<p>

"Maybe we should go outside... take a look around," Hotch said breathing heavily.

"Are you having difficulty breathing?" Reid asked.

"... Yeah..." Hotch wheezed.

"I think you might have a punctured lung, and we need to get you to the hospital right now," Reid said urgently.

"How do you propose... we do that?" Hotch asked sarcastically.

"I'm going to go outside. Paul has to have a car out there," Reid said. "Are you going to be ok in here?"

Hotch glanced over at Paul who was tied up and attached to a bed thanks to Reid's incredible prusik knot. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

Reid nodded and headed down the stairs. His head was still pounding, but he forced himself to ignore it. Reid opened the front door and looked around. The house was situated on an abandoned farm. The trees were budding thanks to the spring season and birds chirped into the chilly air.

Reid approached the garage attached to the barn house. Pulling the door open, Reid stepped into the dark building. Finding a light switch, Reid flipped it on and raised his eyebrows.

* * *

><p>"Morgan, slow the car down, now!" Prentiss said as she watched the speedometer rise from 110 to 120 miles an hour.<p>

"We can't get there too late, Prentiss! I wouldn't be able to live with myself if they died and I knew that I could have been there in time," Morgan said firmly, maintaining his insane speed.

"I understand your concern, Morgan, but we can't help them if we're dead," Prentiss said.

Morgan didn't move his foot off of the gas pedal. Prentiss pried her sweaty palms off of the handles and moved them to the seatbelt around her waist.

* * *

><p>Rossi and JJ approached Paul's house, guns in hand.<p>

"Where are Morgan and Prentiss?" JJ asked.

"I don't know, they were ahead of us," Rossi said.

"Should we go in without them?" JJ asked.

Rossi nodded, signalling JJ to follow him into the house.

They opened the heavy wooden door and stepped inside. Rossi, hearing nothing, called out, "FBI!"

"Here!" A voice shouted.

"Hotch?" Rossi asked, moving towards his voice.

"I'm in the attic, Paul is incapacitated... and Reid is outside looking for Paul's car!" Hotch yelled to Rossi.

Rossi nodded to JJ, who went outside to find Reid.

"Alright, I'm coming up," Rossi called.

Rossi climbed the stairs and found Hotch lying on the floor, "Are you ok?"

"Reid thinks I have a punctured lung... but other than that... it's just minor bruising," Hotch said.

"Ok, we have emergency services coming right now," Rossi assured him.

* * *

><p>Reid stared at the garage completely filled with expensive Persian rugs.<p>

"Reid?" A voice asked from outside of the garage.

"JJ?" Reid whipped around.

JJ ran up to Reid and the two embraced, "I'm so happy you're ok!" JJ said.

"Me too," Reid laughed.

"What the hell?" JJ asked as she noticed the ridiculous amount of rugs crammed into the tiny garage.

"I think that maybe Paul's dad was a hoarder of some kind. He seemed to have a soft spot for these rugs..." Reid explained.

"Weird," JJ said.

"Did someone go help Hotch?" Reid asked.

"Yeah, Rossi went," JJ confirmed.

"What about Morgan and Prentiss, are they here too?" Reid asked.

"They were supposed to be, but they haven't showed up," JJ said, pulling out her cellphone. "... No answer. It's going straight to voicemail."

Reid frowned. He was distracted, however, when he heard the ambulance arrive.

"You should go see the paramedics," JJ said.

* * *

><p>Hotch grimaced as a tube was forced down his throat but felt immediately better as breathing became easier.<p>

Rossi approached the ambulance with a somber expression on his face. "There's been an accident."

Reid looked up, "Who was in an accident?"

"Derek and Emily," Rossi said.

"What?" JJ gasped.

"Are they ok?" Reid asked.

"I don't know. All I heard was that their car went off of the road and hit a tree," Rossi grimaced.

"Oh my God," JJ said with a shocked expression on her face.

"They're at Bunkie general hospital, it's 23 miles from here. We can follow the ambulance over there," Rossi said.

JJ shook her head in shock, how did this day go so wrong?

* * *

><p>Morgan saw spots of white and red when he tried to open his eyes. The car was smoking and the front was completely demolished. His ears were ringing and when he regained his senses enough to look around, he noticed the paramedics trying to get him and Prentiss out of the car.<p>

Morgan stiffly moved his head to see if Prentiss was ok. Blood was seeping from a wound in her head and her eyes were closed.

Morgan tried his best to stay conscious, but his body had other plans and he soon fell back into the dark, cozy place his brain had confined him to.

* * *

><p>"Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan?" The doctor called into the waiting room.<p>

"Yes, that's us," JJ said, standing up.

"Agent Prentiss suffered a minor concussion, and Agent Morgan has severely broken his left arm. At the speed that that car crashed, it's a miracle they're even alive."

"Where can we see them?" JJ asked.

"Rooms 121 and 122," the doctor reported.

"Thank you," Rossi said.

* * *

><p>"Hey Hotch," Reid said, approaching Hotch's hospital bed.<p>

"Reid. Are you ok?" Hotch wheezed slightly.

"I have a minor concussion. I have to stay overnight and I would expect two weeks off of work, but yeah, I'm ok."

"Good. How are Morgan and Emily?" Hotch asked.

"I think they're going to be ok. Morgan's feeling pretty bad about the accident. Did you know he was driving at speeds of 120 miles an hour? I've never taken a car past 70," Reid said sheepishly.

"You know Morgan. He can be so impulsive sometimes," Hotch sighed. "At least they're alright."

"At least we're alright!" Reid grinned, looking at his hands. "It was scary, being at the hands of an UNSUB again. I thought I was going to die."

Hotch looked at Reid, "I'm sorry you had to go through that. I think our team has been through more than its share of mishaps lately. We all need a vacation."

"I've heard that Cottonport is nice," Reid said straight-faced.

"Did I just hear a joke come out of your mouth?" Hotch asked mischeviously.

Reid shrugged casually, a smile dancing on his lips.

"I'm glad you're ok Reid," Hotch sighed, "I would have missed you!"

"Better you than me, can you imagine Morgan running the team?" Reid said.

A smile started overtaking Hotch's face as he thought about it. The smile soon turned into a laugh. Both Reid and Hotch laughed and laughed until tears streamed down their faces.

**Two Weeks Later**

"Look at my poor babies finally back at work!" Garcia exclaimed, rushing over to her bruised and damaged team.

Morgan sported a beautiful pink cast, picked by Garcia herself and decorated with kittens, sparkles and assorted fluffy items.

"Baby girl, you have made me the laughing stock of the FBI," Morgan smiled, embracing his friend.

Hotch was still off of work on medical leave. His punctured lung was healing, but was still too much of a liability to allow him to come back to work.

Reid and Prentiss laughed as Garcia planted a giant butterfly sticker onto Morgan's cast.

Morgan groaned, putting his head in his hand, "You promised no more!"

"But this fits so perfectly," Garcia protested.

"It's fine, I give up. The cast comes off in two months so do your worst," Morgan smiled.

"Oh Prentiss, you and I have a job to do!" Garcia squealed.

"Don't I get to help?" Reid asked, watching as the girls left the bullpen. "Hey! I want to help too! Garcia!"

_What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. They are but trifles, to be sure but, scattered along life's pathway, the good they do is inconceivable. - Unknown_

**Thank you for reading my story, it's been fun to write :)  
>Thank you also to all of my faithful reviewers, it's been a pleasure to read your comments! Please continue for this last chapter and help me reach my all time goal of 50 reviews! Thanks again everyone.<strong>


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